I look down upon this man,
He is my father.
This man who sold my mother,
This man who ordered the whip to leave the scars on my back.
It is this man, who saved me from the market,
Yet heartlessly sold my friends for cattle.
It is this man, who denied my kind the wealth of knowledge,
Who I now care for.
Once the most powerful man on the estate, this man is now helpless
His existence a shadow of what it once was.
This pathetic crippled excuse for a man is my father.
I can't help but love this man.